


The ID-ten-Tango Report

by TajaReyul



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9679157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TajaReyul/pseuds/TajaReyul
Summary: Steve comes to the Astrophysics lab in search of a report for Tony.  Darcy tries to help him find it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "ID-ten-Tango" report or paperwork is military slang. In case the meaning is not obvious, there are plenty of places on the internet to look it up.

“Um, hello?”

Darcy glanced up from Jane's chicken-scratch notes to see Captain Freakin' America standing just inside the lab doorway. She felt her eyebrows make a break for her hairline before she could stop them.

“Ye--,” she squeaked out before clearing her throat and trying again. “Yes, Captain Rogers, what can I do for you?”

“It's just 'Steve', ma'am,” he tried.

“Sorry, no can do. I try to maintain some semblance of professionalism while at work. Otherwise, the results aren't pretty.” _As in, babbling like a star-struck fangirl, not pretty,_ she added in the privacy of her own head. “I think I could manage 'Cap' without too much cognitive dissonance.”

A frown line appeared between his eyebrows. “All right,” he agreed, sounding reluctant. “If you must.”

“I must,” she said, smiling to ease any sting her words might have caused. “So, what brings you to the Astrophysics lab?”

“Tony asked me to pick up a report that he said Dr. Foster had prepared for him.”

Darcy pursed her lips, and Captain America totally did not glance down at her red pout. That was just a figment of her overactive imagination. “Are you sure?” she asked. “Because I would have had to type, or at least compile, said report and I don't remember doing so.”

“That does seem odd. Maybe it's not something she wrote recently. He said it was on the table in the storeroom?”

“We can check in there,” she said, pushing back from her desk. “Come on.”

There wasn't a lot of space to maneuver in the storeroom, crammed full as it was of Jane's homemade equipment.

“I'm sorry about this,” she apologized, doing her utmost not to brush up against him. Surely that was an offense akin to leaving sticky fingerprints on the Declaration of Independence. “Jane's got an entire lab full of shiny new Stark tech, but she won't get rid of this crap held together with duct tape.”

“It's all right. People can be sentimental about the strangest things sometimes,” he said with a wry twist to his mouth. 

_Don't stare. Don't stare. Never mind how well-shaped his lips are, and how badly you want them on your—_

“Well, Cap, I'm not seeing a whole lot of paper on this desk,” she said, turning away to hide her blush and moving some sort of detector that was currently acting as a paperweight.

They both reached for the same doohickey (or was it a whatzis?), bumping shoulders. Shying away from the contact, Darcy collided with the half-open door. It slammed closed. Feeling a bit claustrophobic, she twisted the handle to pull the door open again. The door didn't budge.

“Oh, what fresh hell is this?” she muttered.

“Did you say something?”

Darcy turned to face him. “Not really, no.” She took a deep breath and, with the attitude of a prisoner facing a firing squad, said, “By the way, we're locked in.”

“What? How did we get locked in?”

“I don't know. The lock isn't automatic and I didn't push the button when we came in here. FRIDAY?” Darcy directed her question toward the ceiling. “Can you let someone know the Cap and I are locked in the storeroom and ask them to let us out?”

“I'm sorry I am unable to comply, Miss Lewis. My sensors indicate highly toxic gases in the lab,” answered the AI. “For your own protection, please remain in the storeroom until the lab has been cleared.”

“How the hell did toxic gases get in the astrophysics lab?" _Shit, she'd just cussed in front of Captain America._ "Sorry, Cap. I can be a bit of a potty-mouth.”

“I _was_ in the army,” he reminded her, amusement coloring his voice.

“That must be why Mr. Stark still gives you crap for telling him to mind his language in the field,” she smarted off. She was probably going to hell for sassing a genuine American icon, or at least going to be deported, but being trapped in a closet with the object of her towering crush was stressing her out.

He hung his head. “Swearing isn't a problem, in the right place and time, but it can become a habit. We're Avengers, and in the public eye. Kids look up to us. I don't want us to be bad examples. It's kind of like you wanting to maintain an air of professionalism at work. Slip up and call me 'Steve' and then you might...take liberties.”

Darcy's giggle was more tnah a little nervous. “You kinda sound like you want me to take liberties, and that's just...” she faltered as she caught him checking out her cleavage, “silly.”

“Yeah, why would a swell dame like you ever be interested in me?” he sighed, looking away. “I'm just that skinny kid from Brooklyn that doesn't know how to back down from a fight.”

“Wait, are you serious?” she closed her eyes briefly, gathering her wits. “Steve?”

“Yeah. I'm no good at talking to pretty girls—women. I been tryin' to figure out a way to tell ya for weeks now.”

“Why didn't you just, I don't know, ask me out for coffee?” She stepped closer to him. This was probably—maybe—probably just an excellent dream, but dammit, she was going to grab a piece of that apple pie before she woke up.

He glanced sidelong at her, giving her a twisted smile. “Honestly, it never occurred to me. That's not how we did things.”

“You're going to have to bring your game into the new millennium, Cap,” said Darcy, grasping his hand and guiding it to her waist. “We do things a little differently now.”

He tilted her chin up. “Not too differently, I hope.”

Just as their lips were about to touch, the lock on the storeroom door clicked open. _”Congratulations, you crazy kids,”_ came Tony Stark's voice over the speakers that FRIDAY normally used. _”Now take that PDA somewhere else.”_

A growl rose out of Cap—Steve's—chest, the sound making Darcy's toes curl. “Stark, was this all your doing? Sending me to look for your ID-ten-tango report? Getting FRIDAY to lock us in?”

_”Got it in one, Cap. Let's face it, the sexual tension was killing us. Someone needed to give you a little push.”_

“FRIDAY, when Dr. Foster returns from her lunch with Thor, please inform her that I'm taking the rest of the day off,” said Darcy, grabbing Steve's hand and making a beeline for the exit.

“Where are we going?” Steve asked, following her lead.

“Someplace where we can't be locked in or spied on,” she growled.

“Yes, ma'am,” he agreed meekly.

“You're smirking, aren't you?”

“Yes, ma'am.”


End file.
